


Hearts Like Flowers

by springgreen



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Chromatic Character, Chromatic Source, First Time, M/M, Remix, companion fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-09
Updated: 2006-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:26:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springgreen/pseuds/springgreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gojyo could have stood for this, were it not for the ultimate indignity of being turned on by the astringent stink of chemicals that could probably strip off a layer of skin.</p><p>A remix of devikun's <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/yaoi_challenge/51047.html">Senses Working Overtime</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hearts Like Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> I write smut for the first time. Yeah. Also, I suck at titles.
> 
> devikun wrote a very hot Hakkai/Gojyo fic, [Senses Working Overtime](http://community.livejournal.com/yaoi_challenge/51047.html), and was nice enough to let me write Gojyo's version of the story.
> 
> Thanks to rachelmanija for the beta!

Gojyo was having a very difficult time concentrating. He usually wouldn't worry about his concentration, since he was easily distracted by women, beer, and cards. And women. And beer. Maybe throw in women again for good measure.

And there he went again, off topic. Except that was normal, and he had spent many years lowering people's expectations so that they all knew he was a man of few, but passionate, interests.

Unfortunately, he was being distracted by none of those things. Instead, it was the lack of lingering perfume, the lack of the stale smell of beer and cigarette smoke in his place. He couldn't focus anymore because the room occasionally tantalized him with the aroma of frying (not burnt) bacon and eggs, and after, the sharp citrus of detergent. It reeked of clean laundry and even cleaner tiles.

Gojyo could have stood for this, were it not for the ultimate indignity of being turned on by the astringent stink of chemicals that could probably strip off a layer of skin.

Like most things of late, this was Hakkai's fault.

So Gojyo did his best to cope. He spent his time in bars and draped women across his lap so the powdery sweetness of their lipstick and rouge stayed in his pants and his hair. Maybe his boxers as well. He spilled beer on himself. He came home so drunk he could probably light his breath on fire.

It didn't work, because he would stumble inside, only to be greeted by clean dishes in the sink, clean clothes on the table, and the still silhouette of Hakkai lying in his bed on his back, hands clasped. He gave up trying not to wake Hakkai when he noticed that Hakkai's stiff back would only relax after Gojyo had tangled himself up in blankets on the floor.

This couldn't go on much longer. He knew it was bad when he found himself waking up hard and ready, not because he was in some woman's bed (though he was), but because his nose was buried in a freshly laundered pillowcase. He knew something really had to be done when he found himself in the bathroom, trying very hard not to moan as he wrapped a bleached white shirt around his erection and jerked himself off. He told himself that he hadn't come in his hands while thinking that this combination of sex and sweat and cotton was what Hakkai would smell like after Gojyo had thoroughly fucked him.

Shit. This was the sort of thing that happened when you picked up an idiot bleeding his life out in the rain because you were too stupid to kill him like his eyes asked.

Shit. Shit. And for good measure, fuck.

He wouldn't have had to steal out, ostensibly for a beer, every time he got turned on if Hakkai had been some curvy brunette. As a result, he was making more beer runs than ever, which was saying something, considering his lifestyle. So he simply decided that he was in no way attracted to Hakkai and the constant images in his mind of Hakkai's mouth around his cock were really anomalies brought about by sniffing too much cleaning fluid.

Also, he wasn't about to delude himself into thinking that he could put together the many broken pieces that made up Hakkai, no matter how irrationally happy he had been when they had ceremoniously tossed out Hakkai's suitcase yesterday. He wasn't stupid enough to do that, much less emotional enough to briefly imagine a heart, crushed like flowers.

And Gojyo wasn't so fucked up that he would throw himself after something he could never get. At least, not this time.

So really, he thought he handled things quite well when he came out of the shower only to feel Hakkai's somewhat cold nose shoved into his neck, which made him think of Hakkai's breath down his back and Hakkai's teeth scraping his ear—

"Hakkai! Whu—?!" he said as he jumped back in surprise.

Gojyo desperately tried to cover his groin area with clean clothes, seeing as how his penis had not quite gotten the message about being unattracted to Hakkai.

"Holy— What the hell, Hakkai?"

It really wasn't fair. It was just mean of Hakkai to bring up thoughts of sweaty bodies on sheets and brown hair bunched in his fingers as he bucked his hips and—

Shit.

"I am sorry. But you smelled like... something, and I..." said Hakkai.

"It's called _chamomile_, Hakkai. And it's _moisturizing_. Geez, are you okay man?"

He noticed he was saying something about chamomile and that he had actually formed whole sentences instead of attempting to paw his roommate, which was a good sign that he had not quite gone completely over the edge. Except then he thought of chamomile and tea and Hakkai's long fingers wrapped around a cup and holy mother of fucking god he had to stop himself again.

"So, like, warn me next time or something," he said, and hoped that it didn't sound too much like the plea it was.

He was just going to go out, get really, incredibly fucking drunk, and come back and pretend that everything was normal. He wasn't going to think about the bleak tragedy in Hakkai's eyes (when the fuck had he gotten so sentimental?), much less tell himself that he could fix it with a good fuck.

It was a good plan. Gojyo gave himself props for carrying the first two parts out spectacularly, until he realized that he had been congratulating himself for so long that he was actually sobering up a little on the way home. But that was okay. Things were still going according to The Plan. The Plan was good.

Gojyo also felt a little better when he realized that thinking in capital letters meant there was still some smidgen of alcohol left in his bloodstream.

Apparently, it was enough to convince him that he should go destroy Hakkai's suitcase, which was currently crumpled forlornly in the trash. And if Hakkai ever noticed, he could claim it was a drunken whim, which it was (sort of), and not in the least symbolic or odd.

So he went home and acted normal and not at all guilty about property damage, which meant relaying his most recent bar exploits and completely non-symbolic property damage in extreme detail and at great length to Hakkai. Thankfully, this was the part of The Plan that he could do in his sleep, because Hakkai's hands were elbow-deep in dishwater, and Gojyo found he was rapidly losing his concentration again and shit, he had to say something now that Hakkai's attention had wandered.

"Eh? Err, Hakkai? Is everything okay...?"

Gojyo tried desperately to recall what he had said, but the glazed look in Hakkai's eyes wasn't helping and Hakkai's lidded expression made him think of all possible cliches involving bedroom eyes or come-hither eyes or fuck-me-so-hard-I-can't-string-words-together eyes which lead to fucking Hakkai. Which was not in The Plan.

"I- I'm fine, Gojyo. Do please finish your story," said Hakkai, like everything was fine.

And things were definitely not fine. In fact, things were far from fine, which was something Gojyo noticed when Hakkai leaned oh-so-thoughtlessly over and sniffed at Gojyo's neck.

"I- You- That's-," Gojyo stuttered, because Hakkai's breath on his neck, Hakkai's lips gently nibbling around his ears, just those two whispers of a touch had Gojyo desperately clenching his fists to keep from pushing Hakkai and temptation away or to rip Hakkai's shirt off and run his nails down Hakkai's back just because he had to be closer.

"I, uh..." Gojyo swallowed a moan as he felt the tip of Hakkai's tongue slowly trace his ear. "Call me... uh crazy, but this is kind of... unusual behavior for you, right?" Because Gojyo was clinging to the shreds of his plan and having difficulty stringing coherent phrases together, especially now that Hakkai's dripping wet hand was on his sleeve and he could feel the heat of Hakkai's palms and fingers through the sopping wet, rapidly cooling fabric of his shirt.

But Hakkai wasn't saying a word about things being fine, probably because his mouth and tongue were currently occupied and driving Gojyo crazy because he was not about to fuck Hakkai, because Hakkai was obviously out of his mind at the moment and not responsible for his actions, even if his actions had Gojyo's eyes rolling to the back of his head and Gojyo's knees weakening.

Gojyo gasped when he felt a particularly sharp bite on his earlobe, the sensation going straight to his groin. This had to stop, he had to do something, or he would... he would... oh god, Hakkai's teeth felt good. But no, stop, right. Yes, he was about to put a stop to things.

"Ah," he said very carefully, "is there something you'd, uh," _don't think about other places you'd like Hakkai's mouth to be_ "something you'd like to tell me, Hakkai?"

"Well. I made honey snaps this afternoon."

"Well, err, okay. Great. Yum?" was the only thing he could think of.

Gojyo thought he sounded pretty good, all things considered. In fact, he felt his extreme confusion with regard honey snaps was entirely justified and not at all because he still could not get over Hakkai's mouth just centimeters from his neck and his pulse and... Hakkai started talking again, instead of doing other, better things with his mouth.

"However, they've lost their appeal. I am sorry," said Hakkai.

Gojyo was even more confused now, and Hakkai was just not helping. At all. "Oh. Well, uh, never mind. No big de—"

And then they weren't talking about honey snaps anymore, and it was still all Hakkai's fault because his mouth was now on Gojyo's mouth, and it felt infinitely better than it had on his neck, which was something that Gojyo thought was not possible just a few seconds ago. And Hakkai's wet hands were grasping his shirt and soaking the front with dishwater, and Gojyo was so fucking screwed because the combination of hands and soap suds and white cotton was doing things to him, making him forget why in the world he had been so insane as to not want Hakkai.

Somehow, they were on the floor, and Gojyo didn't even mind slamming into the somewhat cold and somewhat sticky linoleum now that Hakkai was using his tongue with not much finesse but extreme enthusiasm. And then Gojyo felt Hakkai's hips thrusting against his, felt how hard Hakkai was, and then Hakkai thrust again and Gojyo couldn't think of anything else because Hakkai wanted this and wanted him and fuck fuck fuck how had he not realized that he had done something so stupid and so cliched as to hand his fucking heart over to the one person in the world more emotionally screwed up than him.

The very small part of his brain that was still rational notified him that Hakkai was talking. Hakkai needed to stop doing that all the time and start shoving his tongue into Gojyo's mouth again.

"You know how we threw out my suitcase yesterday? You might want to fetch it out of the trash later."

What the fuck was wrong with Hakkai? First honey snaps and then suitcases, and goddamnit, Gojyo was having a crisis here.

"Why would I—" he started, then realized he may be having another crisis involving wanton suitcase destruction and roommate departure, then promptly forgot about crises or suitcases or anything that didn't involve Hakkai's hand in his pants and in his boxers and, oh god, finally on him and even though Hakkai's fingers were wrinkled from doing the dishes, they were the most beautiful things in the world at that moment.

"Fuck!" Why wasn't Hakkai going faster? Couldn't he see that Gojyo needed his help and, damnit, there was his tongue and his hot breath on his neck and shit, he was supposed to do something about a crisis or a suitcase because Hakkai was not going anywhere, not if Gojyo could help it.

"That's a— That's a pretty good reason. But—" _I sort of accidentally destroyed it because I didn't want you to go_ didn't quite seem to be the thing to say.

He had many good and completely unsappy reasons for wanting Hakkai to stay, but right now it boiled down to the fact that Hakkai's hand was doing some pretty wonderful things in Gojyo's pants.

"I would apologize for having my hand down your pants,"—Great, a complete fucking lunatic was groping him—"but actually, I'm not feeling particularly sorry about it," said Hakkai, which slightly reassured Gojyo that his roommate was not entirely insane.

"You're a crazy— Ow! fucker, if you're gonna— Guh... Just let me— Fuck. Shit." Maybe Hakkai wasn't insane but Gojyo was about to be if the idiot didn't do something more because Gojyo just wanted more of him, more hands, more tongue, anything. And he was pretty sure he wasn't making any sense at all, just swearing randomly, but it must have worked since Hakkai somehow had his tongue and his teeth around Gojyo's nipple and he wasn't even swearing anymore. He just needed enough—oh god teeth again—enough—shit, screw finesse when there was that much enthusiasm—enough something to get his much-too-tight pants off.

Pants off too complicated, zipper, right.

And oh thank god Hakkai was getting the hint and his tongue was hot on Gojyo's chest. And then Hakkai took his hand off Gojyo's cock, but just as Gojyo moaned in frustration and desperation, he felt Hakkai's warm tongue on him, teasing him, and—"Hakkai, you—_Fuck_..."—it was better than he could have imagined, and he only barely kept himself from thrusting.

Except Hakkai's mouth (he was in love with Hakkai's mouth, maybe even more than Hakkai's water-wrinkled hands) kept tasting and suddenly, Hakkai was sucking and Gojyo lost it, grabbed Hakkai's hair and started wildly thrusting fuckfuckfuck there was nothing on his mind but tongue and lips and the tiniest trace of teeth.

Then Hakkai started slowing down, and Gojyo could have shot him, or shot himself, or goddamn it, shot something because he needed this. Hakkai was doing something with the cupboard doors, and what the hell was he doing, messing with the cupboard when Gojyo was on the brink and in a really fucking compromising position to boot?

"What the fuck are you—"

And oh shit, Hakkai's mouth on him must have made him lose his mind, because he realized just at that moment that that was where the cooking oil was stored, and oh, shit, Hakkai couldn't possibly have missed his moan. And he was losing what remained of his extremely broken mind, but he thought that was forgivable, because never in his life did he ever think that Hakkai would be willing to fuck him.

On the kitchen floor. On the sticky kitchen floor. Not that he hadn't done tables and walls and floors and other places that he was not about to tell Hakkai about, but this was their floor. This was their floor where Hakkai cooked and mopped and did other Hakkai things, not some stranger's kitchen floor.

"Fuck. On the kitchen... _floor_, Hakkai? You're fucking insa—"

What the fuck, it was Hakkai, it was fine, and Hakkai was earnestly scrabbling around for the oil, which meant he wanted this, which made Gojyo's head hurt and cock throb.

"_Fuck_," he groaned, why the fuck wasn't Hakkai in him already? "Oh shit. Hurry. No, a bit further...ngh...left. The taller bottle. No, that's the soy. The one next—"

Hakkai, who supposedly used the kitchen more, was seriously going to have to pay for not knowing this and making Gojyo, who used the kitchen to give the food a place to rot, direct him.

Except he'd hold that thought and think of payment later, after he got his pants off. Then it was time for Hakkai's, and it seemed a good time to tease him just a little, to finally be able to feel every inch of Hakkai and mess up Hakkai's breathing.

"I take it," Hakkai said, with just a litle trouble, which made Gojyo happy, "I take it you're not unfamiliar with this activity, ah, practically speaking, I mean."

Gojyo would have thought about it a little, wondered if Hakkai was jealous and gloated a bit to himself if that was the case, except he was too busy kissing Hakkai, and then Hakkai had a finger in him, and fuck if he didn't care.

"Ah! Haa! Hnfuck! You mean, ah... fucking?" Gojyo said between moans, too busy to really concentrate on words now that he was pumping Hakkai's cock with a hand slick with oil. "Not... entirely."

"With Banri then?"

"That.. asshole? No wa—" Hakkai thrust his fingers in harder and fuck that felt good, as did potential jealousy, and both were enough to have Gojyo shiver with something that was way beyond mere pleasure. "Agh! Fuck! Alright! _Yes_ with Banri! But not before, when he was— _Ahnnn_... Hak_kai_."

"Don't lie to me, Gojyo."

He couldn't bear it, Hakkai wanting to know this when Gojyo's extremely detailed recountings of various sexual exploits were usually met with cheerful, polite laughter and possibly minutely raised eyebrows, Hakkai wanting to know this while his fingers were deep up Gojyo's ass, Hakkai wanting to know this when Gojyo had been jerking himself off thinking of Hakkai for weeks, it was too much, Hakkai was too much, wanting Hakkai was too much, and having Hakkai was beyond imagining, and really, right now he wanted to be so thoroughly fucked that he didn't have to think about this.

"Hakkai, can we fucking talk about this _later_ and just _fuck_? You wanna do this—fuck you'd better want to do this—I've been fantasizing about it all _day_, ever since you fucking put you _nose_ in my _hair_ like some fucking _dog_, you weird bastard and you got some crazy pheromones or somethin' going on today but I want it. I _want_ it come _on_..."

"Gojyo, shut _up_ and get on your knees, please," Hakkai said, thank all the gods and minor deities and maybe even kitchen floor, to boot.

And fuck, he was on his knees and Hakkai's erection was pressing into him, fuck that felt good, fucking fuck Hakkai was moaning too and if that wasn't the most erotic sound Gojyo had ever heard he would.. he would.. fuck.

"Do you need some time?" Hakkai asked, the idiot, and Gojyo was forced to rethink his position on his roommate's sanity once more.

"No," he said, "I don't. Come on. Just come _on_, Hak—"

"Oh good," said Hakkai as he thrust.

Gojyo's world may have splintered apart. He wasn't too sure, he wasn't really keeping tabs on anything at the moment except how Hakkai felt inside of him, which was, by the way, mind-blowingly wonderful. And then Hakkai continued thrusting, and Gojyo wrapped his hand around his cock and started pumping, and he revised the definition of mind-blowingly wonderful. He only vaguely realized that the moaning and the panting were mostly coming from him; he couldn't focus on much else except Hakkai.

And, god, his head was being pulled back by his hair, which hurt like fuck, and then he felt Hakkai's teeth scraping down his neck, and fuck, the pain went right through him and had him shaking with need and desperation and Hakkai had to fucking go faster and harder, had to do something about this maelstrom in Gojyo, since he was the reason for it.

Gojyo couldn't process much at first, but he realized just as Hakkai stopped biting his neck (damn the man) that the pants and moans in his ear were words, were Hakkai saying something like _Gojyo, Gojyo, you're so good, you feel so good, God. God, you're beautiful, Gojyo, Gojyo_ and Gojyo couldn't stand it anymore, couldn't stand the smell and the feel and the sound of Hakkai, and let himself go, saying Hakkai's name over and over because that was all that was left in his head.

He only barely felt Hakkai coming in him; he wasn't sure if he could even speak after that. Except Hakkai had his arms around Gojyo again and his nose in Gojyo's hair, and Gojyo would be somewhat self-conscious about smelling like sex and sweat if there was enough brainpower in him to think that much.

He did smell like sex and sweat, though. And he was sticky. He turned his head back toward Hakkai, curious, and it turned out that Hakkai smelled like sex and sweat as well, though not so much that it entirely covered the now faint scent of soap. Hakkai smelled like formerly fresh linens after a hard tumble in bed, and Gojyo found that he very much liked that smell. In fact, now he wanted to tumble Hakkai into bed just to see if he was right.

Then he realized that Hakkai actually smelled just a little bit of cleaning fluid and the faintest hint of stale beer, because—

"Oh my god. Oh my god we just fucked on our kitchen floor. You just _fucked_ me on the kitchen floor."

"Mmm," Hakkai said, the faint hum sending tingles down Gojyo's spine. "Sorry. I'll pack in the morning. Perhaps Sanzo will let me stay at the temple for a while; I'm sure there's somewhere I can live where we won't have to—"

What the fucking fuck? Hakkai couldn't just do something like have mad sex with him on the kitchen floor and then leave. It made Gojyo panic and completely lose his mind, and he didn't particularly like doing either.

"Fuck, Hakkai. Forget that."

At least he still sounded rational when panicked, if by rational, he meant extremely defensive.

"Forget that I just fucked you on our kitchen floor? I'm sorry, but even if I could, I would refuse."

"Not that, you idiot. I was trying to tell you before," Gojyo said, stalling for time.

"Trying to tell me what?" asked Hakkai.

"That I can't get your suitcase out of the trash, you moron, because I didn't throw it out in the first place."

Damn. What the fuck was that? Hakkai was going to call him a liar any second now. But... he couldn't just let Hakkai discover that the mere notion of Hakkai leaving was enough to twist his insides and make him demand his unwanted, crumpled heart back. And they had thrown out that stupid suitcase together, and that had meant something to him, damnit. Hakkai couldn't just go and ask for the damn thing back so he could up and leave—again!—and fuck it all, Gojyo was pissed off.

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

Stupid fucking asshole self.

His own fucking insecurities must have messed with his mind more than he realized, because he had to have known that Hakkai would take his words the wrong way. Fuck. Next time, he would fall head over heels for someone sane, someone normal, someone not fucked up beyond belief. Next time, he would just not do the whole head over heels thing.

Next time, was, of course, a moot point, because Gojyo had started to use fucking chamomile lotion, and that meant this thing was not about to go away. Even if Gojyo had to bitchslap himself and Hakkai into accepting it.

"Hakkai," he said, annoyed and frustrated and finally rational, "I fucking tore it into little, itsy, bitsy, fucking pieces. So, no, I won't fetch it for you, and no, you can't go shack up with that fucking monk, and what's more, you can't fucking leave, because I am _not_ going to clean this shit up off the kitchen floor."

"Oh," said Hakkai. Gojyo hoped that meant he had forgotten all notions of moving out, or, for that matter, looking too closely at Gojyo and possibly catching a ridiculously nervous and tender look that Gojyo would never admit to. "Oh, well of course. Certainly, since it's my fault..."

"Damn straight. And next time, can we at least do this in a fucking bed? Lino's not exactly soft, ya know?"

"Next time?" Hakkai asked.

Idiot, Gojyo thought.

Then he found himself smiling goofily up at Hakkai, who was fucking beautiful when confused.

"_This_ time?" Hakkai asked.

Gojyo shuddered at the look in Hakkai's eyes. "_Next_ next time," he said, scared shitless and deliriously happy about the newest occupant of his cautiously sappy heart.


End file.
